


In The Emperor's Study

by kubernetics (yina_ke)



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Alternate Universe - Emperor/Knight, BDSM, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Subtext, Punishment, Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:55:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22256050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yina_ke/pseuds/kubernetics
Summary: The first time it had ever happened, the first time Lelouch had whipped him and the groans of pain had softened and eventually morphed into cries of pleasure, the first time Suzaku had gotten hard before him, Lelouch had been nothing short of terrified.Now, he expected it.
Relationships: Kururugi Suzaku/Lelouch Lamperouge | Lelouch vi Britannia
Comments: 10
Kudos: 105





	In The Emperor's Study

The door fell closed behind them with a soft _click_.

Lelouch didn't even look at Suzaku as he walked, wincing slightly at the pain in his tailbone. But he played down any signs of distress – _forced_ his body to stalk over to the large window overseeing the courtyard with all his usual grace, and to free the heavy velvet curtains without a word or sound.

The curtains fell down, their shadow eating away at the pale circle of sunlight luminating the carpet.

He could hear Suzaku shift his weight behind him.

Lelouch didn't turn around and look, not yet; he allowed himself a moment of weakness, right there, with his back turned to his knight – his features for once slipping out of their iron-mask hold, mouth turning downward, eyes narrowing in a miasma of complicated emotions – before he collected them all and tucked them back behind his mask, and turned around.

Suzaku was staring at the floor, stray locks of his hair falling into his face.

The tension in the room closed off all other sounds, holding them in a tightly-brimming vacuum.

Lelouch opened his mouth to say something, felt his throat constrict around the words, and tried again.

"I know you're sorry," he said. _I also know you didn't do it on purpose, you idiot,_ he thought, but kept it to himself. Out loud, he continued with, "So let's get this over with." He averted his eyes, so he wouldn't have to see Suzaku worry his lower lip, wouldn't see the tangle of guilt in his eyes. "Take off your clothes."

All he got as a reply reply was a weak, "Yes, your Majesty."

He didn't look at Suzaku when he sauntered over to the voluminous desk standing in the middle of his study – didn't look even when he heard the rustle of clothes, heard it sliding down over skin, and the gentle _thump_ when they fell against the floor. Keeping his eyes trained on the desk, he slid open the second drawer on the right.

Half of the riding crop was wrapped in shadows, the second half glinting like the back of a beetle beneath the rays of sun falling in through the part of the window he hadn't bothered to cover. He hesitated, for just a moment – but then decided that no, he could do this, and it wasn't like it was the first time they had done this, and he yanked the riding crop out of the drawer and pushed it shut with a sound that was way too loud.

When he returned his gaze to Suzaku, he was naked already, muscles taut and firm beneath his skin.

Face completely lax, Lelouch let his eyes linger. Let them trail down from his shoulders to the sharp collar bones, then down over his pectorals and the plane of his stomach. He had lost weight, Lelouch noticed – the ridge of his pelvic bones a bowl over his crotch, the bottom of his sternum standing up. Not an ounce of spare fat on his body. Or the front of it, in any case.

Pale fingertips running over the smooth length of the crop, Lelouch said, "Come over here."

Suzaku nodded, still not looking at him – and shuffled over to him, coming closer until Lelouch could feel the heat of his body, until he could smell him.

Back in Ashford, Suzaku had always smelled of motor oil. Now he smelled of the shampoo that swept away the oil and left him smelling as clean and fresh as was befitting of the Emperor's knight, with the spices of his sweat just underneath.

"Put your hands on the desk. And lean over," he ordered, slathering the neutral tone over the emotion brimming in his voice, over the crack that was just waiting to show. "Now."

Suzaku followed his orders. Immediately, just as he always did when he was in this mood of his. A far cry from before, from just an hour ago , when Lelouch had seen anger spark in his eyes, the kindling set and ready for the ember to strike, and –

Lelouch's tailbone throbbed at the memory, and it cost him all his will power not to grimace.

He gripped the riding crop a little tighter, and rounded Suzaku, positioning himself right behind him.

A straight spine that was taut with tension, the muscles in his arms straining against the skin as he supported part of his weight on the desk. Lelouch lowered his eyes –

And thought once again that it was interesting to observe that that part of his body was the only one in which he had still retained some body fat, the only place on his skinny body where he was still as full and taut as ever – and currently spread open just slightly and pointing right at him, round and inviting.

Lelouch let out an internal sigh, and went on with the spiel. He pressed the tip of the riding crop into Suzaku's spine, then let it drop down along the bowed curve. "Do you know what I'm punishing you for today?" he asked, willing his voice to be calm, conversational. Detached.

"For hurting you, your Majesty," Suzaku said, voice coming out strained as if it was choking him. "I hurt you and I should be punished."

"Yes," Lelouch said, and the riding crop slid down lower, smooth and gentle. "You were angry, and you pushed me, and I fell. You didn't mean to, but you underestimated your own strength."

He paused the crop right above the cleft of his ass, and said, "Didn't you, Suzaku?"

"I was wrong," Suzaku said. "Forgive me, your Majesty."

 _It's not me who needs to forgive you_ , Lelouch thought. Out loud, he said nothing.

He only raised the riding crop above his head, and let it fall.

The slap echoed loudly through the study, followed on its heels by Suzaku's long, broken gasp.

"Did it hurt?" Lelouch asked blandly. He could see Suzaku's blood welling up red beneath his skin in a rapid bruise.

"Y-Yes," Suzaku said.

"It hasn't hurt nearly enough yet, has it?" Lelouch asked, and really, really wished Suzaku would tell him to stop.

"It hasn't, your Majesty," Suzaku said.

Lelouch's heart sank just a little. "Very well."

He raised the riding crop again, and flicked his wrist – watched as it connected with the flesh, watched as it rippled in aftershock. He didn't even give Suzaku (or himself) another chance to say anything before he hit him again, harder this time – so hard it made Suzaku yelp in pain and – something else, now.

Lelouch placed the riding crop on the desk, cupping the rounded flesh in his hands, watching how the skin welled up around the dig of his fingers.

"Do you like this?" he asked.

"Yes, your Majesty. I mean, no, your Majesty, it's my punishment," Suzaku said, and Lelouch didn't need to turn him around to know what he looked like right now – there would be a veil over his eyes, a blush pulsing beneath his cheeks and the flanges of his nose, the few pale freckles scattered on his face standing out bright. Maybe his mouth would already be hanging open, lips wet and shining, and –

The first time it had ever happened, the first time Lelouch had whipped him and the groans of pain had softened and eventually morphed into cries of pleasure, the first time Suzaku had gotten hard before him, he had been nothing short of terrified.

Now, he expected it. Knew when it would happen, even – around the second or third or fourth slap, right when the first bright-red streaks began to well up and his skin burned beneath his touch, that was usually when the atmosphere changed completely.

The first time, Suzaku had been embarrassed, so very flustered – the apologies stumbling out of his mouth, his eyes wide and panicked, as if he had committed a mortal sin, and -

And as uncomfortable as seeing Suzaku like this used to make him – as it still made him, really – Lelouch much preferred it to seeing him in pain.

"I have something for you," Lelouch said, and let go of him rather unceremoniously.

Suzaku made a surprised 'huh' sound, but Lelouch ignored him, shuffling through his drawer. Old documents, tissues (well, he could use those later), a well-read book – _there_.

He wrapped his hand around the small, pale blue vibrator and took it out, shutting the drawer with a thrust of his hip ( _and scissors of pain tearing through him from his bruised tailbone_ ), and walked back over to the heaving, naked, and, as Lelouch could now see clearly, very aroused man leaning over his desk.

He positioned himself back behind Suzaku, and pushed the tip of the vibrator into him without a word, watching how the ring of muscles stretched to accommodate the object, then tightened around it in reflex, _squeezing_ down -

A surprised choke - and now Suzaku whipped his head around, sending him a quizzical look out of widened eyes.

Lelouch really didn't want to see his eyes right now. His fingers found the switch, and he flipped it on, the vibrator buzzing to life.

And what came from Suzaku's throat this time, this long, drawn-out sound, that was definitely a moan full of pleasure.

Those moans, those damn moans. Feeling like the ground was giving way beneath him, he found himself stumbling through the thick haze of reluctant arousal. He bit down on his lower lip to keep himself from echoing the sounds, the room spinning out of focus, and then he thought, _the crop, the crop, he had to hold onto it, hold onto himself, anything._

He snatched it from the desk (it felt good in his hands, so good, right and like it belonged there, like he needed it to control himself) and slapped it against Suzaku, fast.

So fast that not even Suzaku had expected it – he let out a surprised sound (lower, huskier now than the ones before), and edged a little closer to the desk.

Lelouch's left hand reached out to grab Suzaku's hip, trying to hold him in place, digging into the bone, before he let it slide lower.

He pushed the vibrator in deeper at the same moment his right hand fell to whip him again.

What followed was nothing so much as an invasion of impressions: there were the sounds, the vibrator was buzzing, the sound getting louder and quieter each time he withdrew it and pushed it back in, like the volume of a TV set being switched up and down in at regular intervals.

And there were the visuals: a sweat drop running down his spine, leaving a glistening trail in its wake; and there was the way his body quivered at every slash of his wrist, and every impact rippling through the rounded flesh. But that wasn't even the worst of all this.

Worst of it was that he, Lelouch, was so very painfully, embarrasingly _hard_ throughout all of this.

Lelouch's breath was getting harsher, faster – but he had an excuse for it, he did, after all, it was hard to whip someone and his shoulder was starting to protest, slow agony worming its way into his muscles. When he raised his arm the next time (the tenth, the one hundreth; he didn't know), it happened: the breath he released carried a low sigh, an almost-moan, and he bit down on his lower lip so hard that he almost broke through skin.

He responded by pushing the vibrator in deeper and whipping him harder, and then Suzaku's sounds greq into such an overwhelming cacophony, the parts (the emotions, the feelings) of which Lelouch didn't even bother to dissect, that he stopped knowing whether he made any sound or not at all.

He realized Suzaku was close now, so close – could see it in the way his body was tensing, the muscles in his back straining, the sounds escaping his throat getting way too loud and distracting, and then Lelouch plucked the vibrator out of him, flicked it to the floor without a word, and spun him around.

Suzaku was so dazed he almost lost his footing, but caught himself just in time. He looked at Lelouch out of wide eyes – eyes so devoid of any rational thought that they were as much the eyes of the clinically insane as the ones of the painfully aroused – and his mouth was hanging open just a little, wet and –

_(inviting)_

\- and Lelouch, yes, Lelouch –

Lelouch lowered the riding crop and let it run along Suzaku's cock, flicking it lightly against it, making his way from the base all the way to the tip.

And it was just that little extra bit that Suzaku had needed to come.

He stiffened and clenched his eyes shut – Suzaku always did that when he came – and his entire body jerked forward, and moments later, Lelouch could feel his warm release splattering all over his clothes.

Lelouch said nothing. Did nothing. Nothing but continued to cling onto the riding crop like it meant something, like it was important, the rope to sanity in this whole mess.

But Suzaku didn't give him much time to compose his own thoughts.

"Your Majesty," Suzaku said, and gods, he was still so very naked, so very drenched with sweat, so very at his disposal, and Lelouch thought again (for the tenth time? The one hundredth?) that this was wrong, so wrong, all of it _wrong_ in that gut-clenchingly instinctual sense of the word.

But Suzaku didn't give him much time to think.

One second, he'd been standing there, spent and locked in post-coital haze; the next, he was pressing up against him, and Lelouch could feel him, the heat of his body drenching his clothes, the swell of his chest, his lips somewhere above his ear –

And Suzaku was pushing him back, and Lelouch was tumbling, straining to keep on to his feet. Then he felt his back slapping hard against the wall, felt himself get flattened against it by Suzaku's weight.

Lelouch stilled. Held his breath.

Suzaku's breath broke against his lips, hot and ragged.

There were within kissing distance, Suzaku's eyes large and wide and horrible right in front of him, his smell in his skin and his chest pressed to his. It would take nothing but a small bow of his head to close the distance.

When Lelouch exhaled, their breaths mingled. A soft butterfly touch as one of Suzaku's lips brushed against his. An almost-kiss, a kiss that could have been, so very, very easily.

Suzaku never did kiss him.

Instead, he rubbed his hand against his crotch.

"Let me please you, your Majesty," Suzaku said; it should have been meek and submissive, but when Suzaku got to this point, his voice always grew demanding, almost desperate. "Let me please you."

The first time Suzaku had ever done this, it had left Lelouch's mind spinning so hard he had feared for a moment that he had lost it entirely.

Maybe he had.

Suzaku was stroking him through his clothes, soft but determined; and then there was the sound of a zipper springing open, and then that of clothes rustling, and then he was exposed down there, and Suzaku's hands were on him and his breath was on the nape of his neck, making him shiver as it sped across the sweat there, and then he was going lower, and then his mouth was down there.

_(mmh)_

Suzaku never went at it with any kind of restraint. He didn't tease him with kisses; he just took him into his mouth right away, the whole length of it, as if he didn't have a gag reflex, or just didn't care. He did it with an urgency as if he could win a prize for making Lelouch come as fast as he could.

Lelouch slumped against the wall, glancing down through the dark bangs falling into his face.

He always felt a twinge of shame at seeing Suzaku do this to him. Felt his insides knot a little when he watched him pop his cock in and out of his mouth, or saw him lick across the tip, or witness himself disappear back between those lips –

_(nng)_

-and, and Suzaku's eyes – still glazed over, still delirious, high blush burning beneath his skin as if he was lit up from within, sweat-drenched hair matted against his temples, lips rapidly bruising and reddening -

Probably right along with Lelouch's own face.

Lelouch covered his mouth with the back of his hand, one knuckle between his lips. He bit down to keep himself from moaning, and then tore his eyes away from Suzaku, spinning them around the room, looking for something, anything, else to look at.

But he was close already, so close. He bit back the sounds (the 'ooh' and the 'ahhh' and the 'nng'), but Suzaku was only sucking him harder, demanding him to come into his mouth, and it was only a matter of time until he would, just a little bit and he'd be there, just a bit –

And then he bit down on his knuckles so hard he could taste the blood, and then (just a bit more, just a bit – ) he was there.

The world blurred, narrowed, then crashed down upon him. He was moving his hips now, thrusting forward, and then he was at the back of Suzaku's throat (he always took him in all the way to let him ride out his orgasm), and he was shaking, and (maybe) whimpering and (possibly) moaning Suzaku's name.

And then the tight lock the pleasure had on his brain drew back and a complicated tangle of emotions spilled forth, and he thrusted a few more times, riding out the sensation for as long as he could, a little shiver here, a broken move of his hips there, until they ebbed out and he stood still. And held his breath.

Suzaku didn't say anything. He removed his mouth, some clarity returning to his eyes. He looked away as soon as his eyes met Lelouch's, glancing down and away from him, until he seemed to notice something, eyes widening slightly as realization dawned on him and Lelouch knew he was looking at his now messed-up clothes.

"The maid's going to clean this," Lelouch said, his voice tight.

The, "Don't you dare apologize again," remained unspoken but implicit.

Suzaku didn't apologize. Instead, he hugged him.

And somewhere in his chest, Lelouch could feel his heart expand.

They'd hugged before, but never like this. They had hugged, but they had done it daintily, like two long-lost relatives re-uniting and deciding they didn't like each other much, but protocol dictated a handshake was too formal. But this time –

It ended way too soon.

Suzaku let go of him, looking almost embarrassed for what he had done.

Lelouch bit down on his lower lip. Expecting the blow. Just knowing he would lower his head and mumble, "I apologize, I was out of line," and say that damn, "Your Majesty," that both turned Lelouch on so bad and disgusted him like nothing else.

But he didn't. Not this time. It looked like he was about to say it, but then he stopped himself, re-considered – and only said, "I'll take my leave then."

"Yes," Lelouch said, and he was hoping and hoping there wasn't as much emotion in it as he felt. "You shall."

Suzaku got up, still naked, then walked over to the pile of discarded clothes on the floor, and slid back into them.

Lelouch kept his eyes trained on the chandelier dangling from the ceiling.

People were talking, Lelouch knew very well. He'd caught them a few times – the scathing words of his maids ("sadist," "punishment," "noises") teetering and scattering into embarrassed silence as soon as he emerged from a corner. He only ever gave them a small smile – the kind that chilled – and waltzed away without a second glance.

They didn't understand, and they never would. But all things considered, it wasn't so bad if people thought he was whipping his knight in his study for pleasure, if they thought he was cruel and sadistic and would cut off their tongue and display them along the walls of his study like morbid war trophies. Not so bad if they feared him, if a ball of terror lodged in their throats when they saw him. Not so bad, no.

Nobody would ever know how he really felt about it. Least of all Suzaku, to whom punishment was kinder than any caress.

But –

"Suzaku," he said. Lowly, quietly.

Suzaku stopped rustling.

He could feel his eyes on his face. Lelouch cleared his throat.

And then in lieu of all the other things he'd much rather say he said, "My tailbone. It no longer hurts. It's fine."

A pause, and he laid the tone over his affection like a coat of paint over bricks, with the bumps and cracks in between still showing. He wanted to say he was okay, really, truly okay, that a bruised tailbone was nothing, that Suzaku was his knight, his most trusted confidant, his -- 

He mentally skipped over the last things his mind conjured up.

"Nothing." The word tasted bitter on his tongue. "You're dismissed."

**Author's Note:**

> Hey. So.
> 
> I originally wrote and published this story 9 years ago. For a long time, I thought I would never return to Code Geass, or anime fanfic in general, but I've recently been sucked back into the sweet oblivion of yaoi writing, and decided to make this new pseud here on AO3.
> 
> I decided to post some of my old fics that I thought had aged better than some of the others here on AO3. So, here's the first one. :) It has a slightly different ending, but is overall untouched.
> 
> There will also be new stuff. Hehe. 
> 
> *plomps down in the middle of the tiny ancient fandom and makes self comfortable*


End file.
